


True Leader

by MisfitWriter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5547035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisfitWriter/pseuds/MisfitWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written after the Midseason finale (season 2) shortly after I'd binge-watched the entire season and a half in two days.  Picks up where the show left off at that point.  Bellamy is Clarke's rock after the gravity of what she'd done hit her, and he helps her find the strength to be the true leader their people need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. True Leader

Bellamy couldn’t bring himself to look at her as she walked past him to slip through the open gate. He knew that if he did, he’d probably end up grabbing her wrist and refusing to let her go. Nothing about her plan sat right with him, but he knew that Clarke had to do this. For herself, for Finn, and for her people. Their people. He didn’t look to her until the gate had closed between them. He heard Abby’s worry and fear, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. She was partly to blame for them having to sneak to the dropship…she was partly to blame for Clarke risking her life to plead for their friend’s. 

A soft murmur from the crowd behind him drew Bellamy’s attention back to his partner, and the breath seized in his chest for a moment. Indra was holding a spear to Clarke’s abdomen, and the slight hunch to the blonde’s shoulders belied her pain. He couldn’t hear their exchange, but the air didn’t leave his lungs again until the Grounder commander granted Clarke audience, forcing Indra to step back. Clarke then steps up to Lexa, and Bellamy wants nothing more than to be at her side. In a short time, they’d gone from despising each other, to being able to communicate with nothing but a look. Neither would openly admit it, but they relied on one another to lead their little band of delinquents.

Grief began to creep into his bones the longer they talked; it was clear the Grounder leader was not going to budge, and Bellamy knew Clarke was not going to follow Raven’s suggestion and put the entire camp in that kind of danger. They would lose Finn, a brother despite the incident in the village. Clarke would take it harder than probably any of them, including Raven.

He watched as she rushed to the bound teen, barely reacting when Raven voiced her confusion. Clarke kissed Finn, and she shifted so that her body blocked her right hand from view. Sudden clarity struck Bellamy, and his eyes drifted shut for a moment. Images of the day she protected him from having to take Atom’s life, the day she ended his suffering, flashed across his mind as the description of the Grounder’s punishment for Finn played in his ears. She was going to save him from an agonizing end. Clarke, all of eighteen years old, was the true leader they all needed her to be.

The rebel clenched his jaw. Finn’s body slowly sagged, and Clarke’s seemed to do the same, the weight of her grief settling onto her shoulders on top of the weight of the world that already sat there. A collective gasp echoed throughout both camps as Finn’s death was revealed, and Indra prepared to attack until Lexa declared the conflict over.

The raw agony he could see on Clarke’s face was echoed in the wail that tore from Raven beside him. Instinctively, Bellamy caught her as she collapsed, holding her close as they both slid to the ground. His chest ached as he stroked Raven’s hair. They’d lost another one of their own…they’d lost one of their core team, and his death would resonate through each of them for a long time. It had every chance of tearing them apart…in that moment, Bellamy vowed to not let that happen. He would give every ounce of himself to keep Clarke from crumbling under her guilt, to keep Raven from becoming lost in her pain, or taking her grief out on Clarke.

It took Clarke several minutes to make it back to the Ark camp, her face blank and body stiff. Bellamy felt the moment Raven changed, and was able to tighten his grip on the mechanic even as she pulled him to his feet. She struggled fiercely against his hold, but Bellamy turned her so that their backs were facing Clarke as she passed. “Raven, Raven stop!” he growled in her ear. “I know you can’t see it now, but she helped him. She did the only thing that she could for him. You need to calm down,” he pleaded. “Wick!” he shouted, relieved when the man in question appeared in front of him almost immediately. “Take her back to her tent, stay with her.” He returned his attention to Raven. “Hey, we will get through this, do you hear me? All of us, together. We can’t fall apart…Finn wouldn’t want us to turn on each other now.”

“Don’t talk to me about what Finn would have wanted,” Raven growled, shoving Bellamy away and storming towards her tent. The rebel sighed, running a hand through his hair and turning to look for Clarke. He was greeted with the shellshocked stare of Abby, who apparently finally realized that her daughter was no longer a child. He shook off the thought, reminding himself that it was not the time for him to focus on his frustration with the Ark leaders, namely Clarke’s mom. The fact that the woman in question was staring at him and not consoling her daughter meant that Clarke had pushed her away.

In an instant he knew where she was, and he brushed past the Chancellor without a second glance. When he found her, nausea turned his stomach. She was tucked against the wall of the Ark, facing Raven’s fence, staring at her hand with a blank look on her face. Raven’s knife teetered in her lax fingers, blood glistening in the distant torch light. Finn’s blood. 

“Don’t do that to yourself, Princess.”

“That’s what he called me before…before I…”

Bellamy stepped around to face her, and gently took the knife from her. His free hand cradled her jaw, lifting her face so that she couldn’t keep staring at the blood. “Clarke, hey, look at me, okay?” Slowly, her distant blue gaze met his. “Don’t do this to yourself. You are not responsible for this, do you hear me?”

Her head jerked to the side. “Lexa…she said that he died for me. She…she was right. He was looking…for me. He snapped…over me. I failed him…this is my fault.” The dead look in her eyes, pale pallor of her skin, and flat tone of her voice terrified him. Bellamy threw the knife to the ground and gripped her face in both hands. She felt cold and clammy, and didn’t react to his touch.

“You couldn’t control the darkness in him, Clarke. It’s not your fault that he gave in to it. You brought him back, and he gave himself up to save us.” Clarke’s eyes began to shimmer, and grief flooded them. Despite her pain, Bellamy couldn’t help the moment of relief that she seemed to be coming out of her shock.

“I did this to him, Bellamy. Oh my God I killed him! I…I promised Raven he’d be okay!” She swayed in his grasp, and he shifted his hands to grip her elbows to keep her on her feet. “I’m…I’m a monster.” Tears finally spilled over her lashes, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“No. You freed him, Princess…you saved him from being tortured and gave him a merciful death. You are not a monster…Raven is hurting too and she doesn’t know where to direct that. She’ll understand once she can see past that. We will get through this. Together.”

Clarke looked back up at him and gave a reluctant and tearful nod. Bellamy gave her a weak smile before pulling her forward to press his lips to her forehead. The gesture seemed to break her resolve, and her entire body shook with her first wrenching sob. He tucked her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head as she continued to grieve. His own pain finally started to fully sink in, and he let the tears fall unchecked. He would be strong for his friends and the rest of the camp tomorrow. For now, he would rely on the bond and partnership he’d forged with the fierce young woman in his arms, giving strength and comfort and drawing the same as well.


	2. The 100 vs Camp Jaha

“I’m going to go request a meeting with Lexa. We need to take steps towards the truce with the Grounders if we want to get our people back.”

Bellamy stood beside Clarke, and had to force himself not to look away from Abby and Kane. His partner had insisted on the meeting with the leaders of the Ark camp, telling him that they couldn’t waste time wallowing while their friends were potentially being used as human blood bags for the Mountain Men. He’d tried to persuade her to take another day to recover, but she’d been adamant that two days was too long.

 

**

 

_The rebel had rocked his princess after she’d broken down in his arms, until she’d fallen asleep. He’d eased her down so that he could rest against the Ark and cradle her against him. Even in her sleep, the Princess kept herself curled against his chest, and Bellamy didn’t loosen his grip for a moment. Abby had come searching for her daughter, found them soon after Clarke had fallen asleep. Bellamy silenced the Chancellor with a single look, and shook his head. If looks could kill, he knew he’d have been a dead man, but he was not willing to shatter the tenuous hold his Princess had found on peace from their nightmare._

_The next day had consisted of Clarke avoiding everyone and Bellamy shielding her from unwanted attention. He encouraged her to talk to her mother, but one pleading look had him telling Abby that she didn’t want to talk to anyone yet. He knew her mother was growing to resent him; their partnership and the fact that he was the only one she allowed herself to be vulnerable around had to be difficult for Abby to accept._

_“Get out of my way, Blake. I need to see my daughter. My baby girl needs me.”_

_Bellamy straightened at this, taking a deep breath to quell his sudden rush of frustration. “All due respect,_ Chancellor _, your daughter hasn’t needed you since she stepped onto this planet. She is_ not _a ‘baby girl’ anymore…she is the leader of what has become our family. Last night, she had to take the life a man she_ loved _to spare him an agonizing death for what he did_ in her name _. If she needs space, I’ll do what I have to do to give it to her.”_

_Abby looked him up and down, sizing him up. The rebel held her gaze steadily, a year of fighting alongside that same challenging look making him immune to it. “Fine. Tell her I will be waiting when she is ready.” Bellamy nodded, and turned to head back to Clarke. “Oh, and Blake?” When he glanced back over his shoulder at her, the Chancellor’s arms were crossed. “I will not ignore your disrespect forever. Clarke’s friend or not, you are still subject to the Exodus Charter in this camp.”_

_Bellamy dropped his gaze, part of him instinctually wanting to fall in line, and the rest of him defensive. After a moment, he sighed, and returned to Clarke, sitting numbly in his tent. She gave him a halfhearted, ghost of a smile, and allowed her gaze to fall back to her hands. “We have to go talk to the Grounders tomorrow…we can’t pretend forever that…last night didn’t happen. We have to keep moving forward…._ I _need to keep moving forward.”_

_Bellamy crouched in front of her, peering up at her face and placing his hands gently onto her wrists. “Are you sure you’re ready for that, Princess? The Grounders will wait.”_

_Blue eyes disappeared behind fluttering lids. “If I don’t do this sooner rather than later, I don’t think I ever will. All I want to do right now is curl up in a ball and run away from all of this…to pretend the world doesn’t exist. But_ our people _are counting on us to rescue them.”_

_Pride and affection swelled in Bellamy’s chest, and he reached up to cradle her face with both hands. He pulled her head down towards him, and rested his forehead against hers. “That they are, Princess. And we won’t let them down.”_

**

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw Raven leave her tent, an uneasy-looking Wick in tow. He tensed, prepared for the rage he’d witnessed, but when he turned to get a good look at her, grief was written in every line of her body. No anger, no hatred…just overwhelming pain. Abby’s voice drew his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“Absolutely not. You are not leaving this camp, young lady. Not after what happened two nights ago.” Dark eyes narrowed, and the Chancellor glared at him in challenge. Bellamy clenched his jaw, refusing to step on Clarke’s toes. A glance to her confirmed this, and he watched as the warrior princess in her surfaced once more.

“ _Because_ of what happened two nights ago, we have to show them that we are still strong. If we hope to solidify this truce, we need to prove to them that we can stand beside them against the mountain men.”

“No one is leaving this camp. Period. We need to talk anyway.” Abby reached for Clarke’s arm, and it took everything within Bellamy to squash the instinct to step between them. He also had to squash a smirk when the Princess took a step back anyway, shaking her head angrily.

The two Griffin women stared each other down for a moment, until Clarke glanced at Bellamy and brushed past Abby. Without hesitation he followed, not glancing at the two Ark leaders as he passed. Before they could even reach the gate, though, guards blocked their path. “Let us through!” Bellamy growled, wishing to have a gun in that moment.

“Chancellor’s orders, no one in or out.”

A growl of rage tore from Clarke’s chest, and Bellamy was barely able to catch her with an arm across her chest as she tried to shove at the guard. He pulled her against his chest, and stepped back, eyes watching the guard warily. Once he was sure the man was not moving towards her, he turned and started walking her towards Raven’s fence. “Easy, Princess. Don’t give your mom an excuse to keep you under lock and key.”

“What the hell do you call that?” she snapped, pushing away from him in frustration.

“We will figure something out, which would be impossible if we’ve got eyes on us at all times. At least for now, we can hide. Here, sit. We need a minute to calm down if we’re going to figure out our next move.” He tugged her down to the ground against the Ark, ignoring her huff of annoyance. “Besides, you mother is just waiting for a reason to throw me back into a cell.”

Clarke turned to him in surprise. “What are you talking about?!”

“We started butting heads over Finn…and then she was less than thrilled about the fact that you’ve been leaning on me the last two days. She is the Chancellor…she doesn’t like having to deal with being challenged by someone like me.”

Clarke dropped her head back against the station. “What are we going to do, Bellamy? We were their leaders…everything that we’ve been through, everything we’ve seen…can we go back to just being…citizens?”

“I don’t think so, Clarke. Things are different on the ground…we’ve learned that. We’ve adapted, we’ve _changed._ This camp is still functioning under the same system as up there.”

“My mom still sees me as a child. I thought…” her breath hitched, and Bellamy looked over and watched her eyes fill with tears. “I thought that she’d understand, after what I did. I thought she’d finally see me as…as a leader. That I would do whatever it took to protect my people.”

Bellamy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her gently until she rested against his side. “Protecting our people means something different to them. They want to protect _us_ , the ones that are here in the camp. Our determination to go out there and rescue the ones _not_ here puts a damper on that.” He sighed lightly, resting his cheek on her hair. “They sent us down here to die. Accepting us as leaders means accepting what they forced us to go through…accepting the fact that we can’t just be labeled as criminals anymore. For your mom to process what she saw two nights ago, she has to accept that she is partly responsible for every experience that led you to that moment…that led Finn to that moment.”

“How are we going to get them back, Bellamy?”

“I don’t know, Princess. We’ll figure it out…we always do. Together.”

“Wait…what did you mean _back_ into a cell?” Clarke questioned, pulling away to face her partner.

Bellamy sighed. “When Kane and your mom first found us, and we took them to the drop ship thinking you guys would be there, Murphy and Raven were there. I saw him and just…saw red. I jumped on him, and Kane arrested me. Made sure to tell me, and thoroughly remind me, that I was no longer in control. Finn had to break me out so we could start searching.” Brown eyes met blue, and he held her gaze. “Princess, when we get our people back…I don’t think we are going to be able to stay at Camp Jaha.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too…after learning to follow us, how will they react to the Guard?”

“More than that…how will they react to being ordered around by the Council that, for all intents and purposes, sent them to their deaths? We learned to survive _despite_ them, our people are not going to take our being ordered around by them very well. They lost the respect of all of our friends…some might stay if their parents are here, but for the most part…they are going to expect us to lead again. We can’t do that in here.”

Clarke nodded. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. First things first…how are we going to get out of here so that we can get to Lexa?”

“I can help with that.”

Both Bellamy and Clarke jumped to their feet, Bellamy keeping himself between Clarke and Raven. “Raven…” Clarke breathed, tears making her voice thick.

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you…but I understand why. You need to make sure it wasn’t in vain…so I’m helping you get out of here. Wick has this section of the fence powered down. Go, now, before someone notices. Go find a way to get our friends back.” Tears were streaming down both girls’ faces, and Bellamy nodded to her before gently ushering Clarke through the wires of the fence. When he looked back, Raven was hobbling back towards the main part of camp. Clarke glanced back at him, and he hurried to catch up with her, making sure they stayed out of sight of the rest of the camp.

“Are we sure we want to do this without weapons?” he questioned softly.

“No…but we don’t exactly have an option…and considering we are trying to get them to fully accept a truce, it’s probably a good start.”

Bellamy conceded, and gestured for her to take the lead. “After you, Princess.”

With a hesitant smile, Clarke passed him, thankful for Raven’s help, and thankful to have her partner by her side as they started an uncertain journey to bring their friends, their _family_ home.


	3. Enough

Clarke was exhausted by the time she and Bellamy had returned from their meeting with the Grounders. Lexa hadn’t spoken to them for long, saying that they would have a ceremony to officiate the truce, a shared meal. There had been a strong sense of respect coming from the Grounder commander, and Clarke wasn’t sure how to handle it. The respect came from the fact that she’d taken Finn’s life…she didn’t deserve that.

 

“Looks like we’ve got a welcoming party,” Bellamy murmured, his fingers ghosting across the small of her back as he moved to step in front of her. Clarke looked up and saw her mother, Kane, and several guards waiting for them at the gate. The blonde grabbed Bellamy’s shoulder and tugged him a step behind her.

 

“They look pretty pissed…let me go in first. My mom can deal with me.”

 

The elder Griffin had her arms crossed over her chest and a furious gleam in her eyes. The gate opened for them, closing as soon as both were within the fence. Clarke came to a stop before her mother, Bellamy only a half a step behind her. His presence at her shoulder gave her strength and confidence, and she took a deep breath to speak.

 

“Bellamy Blake, you are under arrest.” The voice, coming from behind the pair, belonged to Miller’s father.

 

Clarke spun around as her partner was yanked away from her. The confusion and indignation in his eyes matched those same emotions pulsing through her. “What?! What the hell are you doing?!” A guard roughly bound Bellamy’s hands behind his back, tightening the binding until the young man hissed, but he made no move to struggle. Clarke reached for him, but two pairs of hands grabbed her arms. “Let me _go_!!”

 

“Get your hands off of her, you-“ his growling order was cut off by a startled yelp when Miller punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air.

 

“Stop it! Let me go, why are you _doing_ this?!” Clarke pleaded, tears filling her eyes. No matter how hard she struggled, the hands on her arms would not let her go.

 

“Insubordination,” Kane answered.

 

Clarke glared at him over her shoulder. “If you are going to arrest him, you sure as hell better arrest me too, I-“

 

“Shut up, Princess,” Bellamy hissed, eyes pleading as Miller started to drag him away. “It’ll be okay, you hear me?”

 

“I’m going to get you out of this, Bell. I promise!” Once he was out of sight, the hands released her. Clarke spun and shoved the guards away, facing her mother with fire in her eyes. “Either let him go, or tie me up right beside him, because I am guilty of insubordination as well.”

 

“Bellamy Blake has manipulated you, Clarke. I know you can’t see it right now, but this behavior isn’t you…it is _his_ bad influence.” His name came off of Abby’s tongue like a curse, and it made the blonde’s fists tighten in rage.

 

“The hell he has!” Clark shouted. She threw her hand out in the direction Bellamy had been dragged off. “He has saved my life more times than I can count…he is my partner, my confidant…my _best friend_. He hasn’t _manipulated_ me; we _trust_ each other with our _lives_ and _lead our people together!_ None of my people would have survived without him.”

 

“Clarke,” Raven murmured, grasping her shoulder gently. Clarke had been so lost in her anger that she hadn’t even seen the young woman join them. “Take a breath, we’ll work this out. But first, what did the Grounders say?” Much like her mother with Bellamy’s name, Raven spat out the Grounder’s. Clarke met her eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm herself. Raven was trying to help her, despite everything.

 

“They’re following through with the truce. There will be a feast at their camp, to make it official. It will be in three days. Now let me see Bellamy.”

 

“No, Clarke. You need to distance yourself from him, to heal from everything you’ve been through.”

 

Instead of responding, Clark scoffed, rolled her eyes, and stalked away. She heard Raven following her, and instinctively slowed slightly. “Thank you. You didn’t need to help me…but thank you. I might’ve hit her if you hadn’t pulled me back to my senses.”

 

As they passed the prison unit, Clarke had half a mind to rush in there and demand they release her partner. Raven shot her a look, and the blonde hesitated.

 

Until a hoarse shout echoed through the metal doorway of the unit. The pain in Bellamy’s voice cut through her, and her breath hitched in her chest. Rage tinted her vision, and she rushed inside. Bellamy’s hands were bound in front of him, and two guards held his arms. He was down on one knee, with his head bowed in evident pain. When he heard her enter, Bellamy looked up slowly. Blood dripped from his nose and a cut on his temple, and bruising had already started around his left eye. “Clarke…” The way his voice cracked made something snap inside her. Clarke lunged forward and latched onto Miller’s back, wrapping an arm around his throat. His hands grappled with her, but she held on tight. Grim satisfaction filled her when he stumbled back away from Bellamy. “Clarke! Don’t touch her, no! Clarke, stop!”

 

Agony suddenly erupted in her back, and her body went lax. She felt herself collapse, but was unable to catch herself from hitting her head on the ground. White hot pain shot through her again, and a scream tore from her throat. The baton remained pressed to her shoulder, and Clarke felt her body begin to spasm with the electricity flowing through her.

 

“You’re going to kill her! Stop, please! Stop! I’m the one you have a problem with!” She heard him continue to struggle, but the ringing in her ears quickly blocked it out.

 

Just as abruptly as it had started, the TASER was pulled away and the pain abated. Soft whimpers followed occasional muscle spasms, and Clarke breathed slowly as her senses returned. She could hear another voice, and it took a moment to be able to decipher it as her mother’s.

 

“-do you think you’re doing?! I want all of you out, NOW!” As the blonde gingerly pushed herself up to her elbows, she saw her mother and Raven standing just inside the entrance, Abby glaring daggers at her Sargent and his guards and Raven looking to her friends in sympathy.

 

A half-suppressed grunt of pain drew Clarke’s attention back to Bellamy; his wide, panicked eyes were fixed on her, and he had lowered himself onto both knees to reach for her. A growl of frustration rumbled through her when her legs were sluggish to respond, so she started to drag herself towards him. Bellamy shook his head with an exasperated half-smile, and hurried to shuffle forward. “Stubborn Princess,” he murmured, using his bound hands to help her to her shaky knees. His fingers were trembling when they came up to cradle her jaw, and Clarke met his intense, searching gaze in kind. “What were you _thinking_?” he murmured, flinching slightly when she shuddered through another spasm. His thumb idly stroked her cheek as if he were trying to soothe her pain.

 

Clarke’s entire body was starting to ache, and every tremor hurt more than she’d care to admit, but she wouldn’t take back her actions. “I was _thinking_ they were _hurting you_ , Bellamy, and I wasn’t just going to let it happen.” The buzz in her head was finally easing, and she shook her head to get rid of the rest of it. A pounding ache replaced the haze, and she let out a slow breath to calm her suddenly-turning stomach. His fingers tightened slightly on her jaw, and she read concern in his eyes.

 

“What the hell were you doing, Clarke? What made you think it was okay to attack the Sargent?” Abby questioned harshly, stepping up behind her daughter.

 

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment as fury sparked within her. When she opened them again, she catalogued each injury on Bellamy’s face. As her fingers traced each cut and bruise, his eyes followed her. When her fingers slid into his hair to check for head wounds, his eyes drifted shut. Clarke breathed out a chuckle as he finally started to relax. Deft hands gently prodded his neck, shoulders and ribs, hesitating when he drew a sharp breath and he winced. Brown eyes met blue once more, and Clarke held his stare as she tested his chest more intently. Relief flooded through her when she was able to discern that none of his bones were broken. He’d have some impressive bruises, but he’d heal.

 

“If you expect me to stand by and allow him to be beaten for a choice that _we_ made together, for _our_ people, you don’t know me anymore.” Clarke took a deep breath, steeling herself for her next statement. Bellamy’s eyes narrowed for a moment in question, so she continued. “Enough is _enough._ Once we rescue our people from Mount Weather, we will be leaving Camp Jaha and rebuilding our camp with any of _our people_ that want to follow us.”

 

Abby gasped in shock, and Bellamy’s eyes widened. She gave him an apologetic look, touching his jaw and silently asking him to trust her. She knew that he did; they wouldn’t have made it this far without trusting each other implicitly. At his nod, she turned unsteadily to look at her mother. His hands came to rest on her back, between her shoulder blades, to stabilize her.

 

“No, absolutely _not_!” Abby growled. Clarke looked between her mother and Raven, and was grateful for the support in the mechanic’s eyes.

 

“I think it is clear by now that you can’t keep us prisoner here without _actually_ locking us up. That won’t look good to the rest of your people…the Chancellor imprisoning her own daughter? But as I said, I will not stand for the way Bellamy is being treated like a criminal. And neither will our people, once they are back. We do things differently than you do, mom. They will not forget what your Council did to them, they _won’t_ follow any of you.” She turned to look at Bellamy over her shoulder, and he nodded his support. “Now let him go.”

 

“Clarke,” Abby started, prepared to argue.

 

When Clarke turned her hard gaze to her mother, the elder Griffin looked stricken by the distance in her eyes. “Let. Him. Go.”

 

Abby finally nodded and handed her the wire cutters that had been sitting next to the door. Without hesitation, Clarke turned and cut the bonds from Bellamy’s wrists. Her fingers traced beside the cuts marring his skin as a result of his struggles, and she clenched her jaw. “It’s okay, Princess,” he murmured as he pulled his hands gently from her grasp. “Come on.”

 

The two helped each other stand, Bellamy taking on some of Clarke’s weight while she fought for control of her exhausted muscles. “Mom…I love you. But you have to understand that things are different down here…we have all changed. I’m not a little girl anymore, and he’s not a criminal anymore. We have to do what is best for our people, and branching out is it. We can still work together…but those kids have been through too much to come back and be treated like _kids_. They have been forced to grow up by people they were supposed to be able to trust, and that hurt isn’t going to go away for a long time.”

 

Without another word or waiting for Abby to respond, Clarke led Bellamy past the two women out of the unit and towards his tent. Tears filled her eyes once they were outside, everything hitting her at once. Bellamy tightened his hold on her waist as they limped along, and she was grateful to have his unwavering support.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they reached Bellamy's tent, Clarke was able to reign in her emotions. Kane, Byrne and the Guard had watched them silently, and she refused to show them emotional weakness. Once they were inside, Bellamy gingerly tied the flap shut before turning to face Clarke, who was standing beside his cot.

"Lay down, let me take a better look at your ribs." He couldn't help the wry grin that spread across his face. "What?"

"You never stop caring for everyone else, Princess. We need to check your head first. Sit," he ordered, gesturing towards the bed. The blonde opened her mouth to argue, but a raised eyebrow silenced her. She obeyed and he stepped in front of her. "Good girl," he teased lightly. Bellamy loomed over Clarke, and she tilted her head back to watch his face. The rebel began to slowly and gently massage his fingers along her scalp. She knew he was searching for a wound, but she allowed herself to get lost in the comfort of his touch. Ever since they'd been reunited at Camp Jaha, they'd been working on a whole different level, like thinking they'd lost each other revealed how much they needed each other. They'd come a long way from their first encounter on the drop ship; he'd truly become her best friend, and the only person she found herself fully trusting. She knew that he would not abuse her vulnerability when she let down her walls, knew that he understood her better than anyone else.

A throb of pain dragged Clarke from her musing, and she realized she'd closed her eyes while he worked along her head. She looked up at him as he pulled one hand away to check for blood and used the other to feel the extent of the lump left behind by her fall. She tried not to flinch, but he was able to read her pain as easily as he read everything else when it came to her. "It's fine, there wasn't any blood, and if there's any kind of concussion it's minor. I was nauseous at first but that's passed." She was loath to let him stop his massaging, but the scrutiny in his gaze was almost too much. He finished his inspection and dropped his hands with a light sigh. "I'm okay, Bellamy. Honestly." He raised an eyebrow at her, challenging her silently. "I promise!" she insisted with a soft huff of laughter.

As soon as she moved to stand, the rest of her body reminded her that the bump on her head wasn't the only thing that had happened to her. Every muscle felt like it was on fire; the short time she'd been sitting, they'd locked up on her. Her legs refused to hold her weight at first, and Bellamy grabbed her shoulders at the same time that she caught herself on the edge of the cot. "This is your definition of okay?!" he snapped, the concern in his eyes belying the harshness of his voice. He tried to push her back down, but Clarke forced her legs to obey her. Once she was steady and the ache had eased enough to ignore, she placed her hands on his wrists and met his eyes.

"My muscles are just cramping up from over exertion. Moving will help loosen them back up, I'll be fine. Your turn, tough guy. Lay back so I can see your ribs."

Despite the skeptical look in his eyes, Bellamy did as he was told. Clarke one again catalogued the bruises on his face as he relaxed, noted that the cut on his temple had stopped bleeding, and examined the cuts on his wrists again. The blonde took a deep breath as she took hold of the hem of his shirt, knowing the damage to his abdomen would look awful. When she took in the rainbow of hues painted across his chest and abs, anger coursed through her again. She silently cursed Sargent Miller and his thugs each time Bellamy twitched or made a noise of pain as she searched for broken bones, and once again she was thankful to find none. "I need to clean these cuts, then I'll be done. Stay here."

Bellamy looked like he was going to protest, but she quickly untied the opening and headed for the med bay. From the corner of her eye Clarke noticed her mother, but she simply dropped her head and picked up her pace. It didn't take long to gather the supplies she needed, but by the time she came back out her mother was waiting for her. "Please get out of my way. I need to finish patching up my best friend."

"Clarke, we need to-"

"No. I told you, I _need_ to finish patching up my _best friend_. Excuse me." Her shoulder brushed against her mother's, but Clarke couldn't bring herself to care as she returned to Bellamy's tent. She found him sitting upright on his cot, seemingly lost in thought. She watched him silently as she prepped a rag soaked in some of Monty's leftover moonshine, and gently touched his cheek to draw his attention. "Where'd you go?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

He smiled half-heartedly at her, and watched her hand as it lifted the rag to his temple. She found herself shaking her head in affectionate exasperation when he clenched his jaw and eyes, clearly fighting any more outward expression of the sting. "I was thinking about our friends…wondering how they are."

Clarke's eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears. She didn't say a word as she applied a bandage to his face, or started gingerly cleaning his wrists. She couldn't bring herself to look back up at him even after she was finished covering his injured wrists; the guilt of every single missing friend and every hurt inflicted by the Ark survivors…of what she did to Finn…crashed over her and threatened to drown her.

"Hey, hey, hey…come back to me, Princess," Bellamy pleaded, his hands cupping her face. His breath on her cheeks was cold, and it took her a moment to realize that it was because they were wet with tears. She looked up at him, and strong arms instantly wrapped around her. "I thought we went over this," he murmured in to her hair, tugging her so that she stood between his legs and was pressed snugly to his chest. "None of this is your fault. Especially not what those assholes did back there." He stroked her back, and Clarke gave in to her tears. They weren't wrenching sobs like the last time she'd cried…these were silent, but relentless.

"I don't know if I've ever been that angry, Bellamy. I just… _lost it_ when I saw you in there. I don't remember much of what happened between you saying my name and when they got me a second time with the baton…it's really hazy. I just know that I was _pissed_. And scared." Comforted by his embrace, she closed her eyes and nestled closer to him. His heartbeat thumped gently against her ear.

Bellamy chuckled, a low rumble that she felt vibrate through his chest. "How do you think I felt? _Christ_ when they hit you the second time and didn't let up, I thought they were going to kill you. He had this detached look in his eye, like he wasn't comprehending what exactly he was doing. He was just reacting. It wasn't until you tried to drag yourself over to me that I knew you were okay." They both fell quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

"I'm sorry that I made that final decision without you," Clarke murmured finally. Uneasiness settled into the pit of her stomach, and she sighed in his arms.

"You don't need to apologize, Clarke, we'd already talked about it being a significant possibility."

"I know, but it hadn't been a set agreement, and I want you to know that it's not something that's going to happen on a regular basis. I realized talking to my mother that…had that decision been voiced as even remotely your idea, she would've kept you locked up and kept me in lockdown so that you couldn't _influence me_ again. It had to come one hundred percent from me, or she never would have taken it seriously."

Bellamy simply nodded and stroked her hair. "I don't know that they will ever trust me…and I _do_ know that they will never allow us to lead so long as we are here. It has to be done. I'm just sorry that you have to make that decision and leave your mom."

A soft huff left Clarke, and she shook her head. "I will always love my mother, but she is not the family that I need anymore. I'm willing to work with them, and I doubt they would completely cut us off, but we need to do what's best for _our_ family. For what will be left of the 100 that we fought and bled for. We've lost enough already, and who knows how many more will be lost before it's all said and done…we will need each other more than ever."

Bellamy leaned back enough to meet her gaze. "We will get through this, Princess, and then we'll prove to the Council that we are capable of taking care of ourselves. We may have to try to med some fences, though…I don't know that we'll be able to free our people alone. We need help."

Clarke sighed, and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. "Can we figure it out later?"

Bellamy chuckled in surprise, a genuine sound that washed over her and brought a sense of peace over her. He pressed his cheek to her hair and she could feel his grin. "Whenever you're ready, Princess. Whenever you're ready."

 


End file.
